


Exes AU

by takemeawaytocamelot



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takemeawaytocamelot/pseuds/takemeawaytocamelot
Summary: AU. Modern times. Jamie and Claire are ex-es but they still love each other even tho they're too proud to admit it. They meet up at a party. Someone flirts with Claire and Jamie gets jealous. A bit of angst with a happy end.





	1. 12 Months Later

Why the hell was he here? I didn’t want to look at him, let alone be around him for a handful of hours.

  
One of my good friends was having a bachelorette party at a local pub and I’d willingly gone. Twelve months of putting my shattered heart back together had me thinking I’d been successful.  
Until he’d walked in the pub.

  
Full military dress, standing as tall as he ever did. None of his natural grace was gone, the air of authority clung to him wherever he went. But he was more reserved than I’d last seen, more cautious. A year on a classified mission in the military would do that to anyone, I supposed.

I prayed silently he wouldn’t see me. That was the last thing I wanted. I had loved that man, once. I’d given him my heart. Once. My love. My body. Everything. We’d been engaged. I’d gotten a wedding dress.

But then that day had happened. The New Year’s party when we’d had a little too much to drink. We’d gotten into some serious conversation and he’d finally told me the truth. He didn’t think himself worthy of me, having my career set and the ability to take care of myself. He wanted to make a name for himself, to make himself a better prospect before we married.

“But I don’t need you to be wealthy,” I’d told him. “I don’t need you to move up the ranks of the military. I just need you!”

“Aye, ye say that now. But when we’ve no heat in our flat because we canna pay the bills? I’ll no’ have that for you, Claire. You deserve more than that. Will ye wait for me?”

“Jamie don’t do this. How long will you be gone?”

“The commission doesna say. Could be a year or more.”

“Then marry me before you leave. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He’d shaken his head.

“I’ve given you what little I have, Claire. I canna give you a home yet. Not until I return.”

That had been the worst decision of my life. But he wouldn’t budge, stubborn Scottish bastard that he was. I’d given him the choice of marrying me before he disappeared for an unknown length of time or not at all.

Ever since that night, I’d been living a half-life.

There wasn’t much that excited me anymore. My friends had gotten worried about me. I’d forced myself into the habit of going out with them whenever I could, if only to dull the edges of my heartache.

But now…

Damn. He’d seen me.

My heart lurched and clenched in agony.

I began looking for a way out, an exit.

The only way out was though the front, unless I ran to the ladies room.

“Miss Beauchamp?”

The women at my table stopped talking and slowly turned toward me. Most of them knew about my breakdown after Jamie had gone, some had been there to help me. This had the potential for disaster.

“Mister Fraser,” I said shortly.

Anger was the only thing I had. If I looked beneath that, I knew what I’d find.

**I’d find those warm morning he’d made me breakfast.**

**The Christmas when he’d introduced me to his sister.**

**The night he’d proposed with his mother’s gold band.**

**Or when he’d given me his mother’s pearl necklace, the first time we made love.**

The first time I’d _ever_ made love with anyone.

“Ye look well.”

“Thanks.”

I could feel the eyes of my friends on me. But I couldn’t look up to those blue eyes. I’d begin drowning. Once upon a time, I’d enjoyed that sensation.

“I… Have ye… I… Would ye speak wi’ me in private?”

I couldn’t stop myself as my eyes shot up to his. I gave him the darkest glare I could, even though the tears were beginning to well.

“No. If you’ve anything to say to me, say it here.”

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. I still loved him.

I. Still. Loved. Him.

If he asked forgiveness I would give it without hesitating. I wanted everything that we’d had back.

He swallowed. It was unusual to find him at a loss for words. He’d always been poetic and very well spoken.

“I’m sorry, Claire,” he said, very softly.

“For what? Making your choice or breaking my heart?”

“I… Both. All of it. Ye didna deserve how I treated you. That I caused you pain has tormented me these last months.”

I stood abruptly, eyes darting to the ladies room. I needed space from him.

God he still smelled like warm sunshine and fresh cut grass.

“Pain? You were in torment? I gave you everything! I have one thing to say to you, James Fraser. Go fuck yourself!”

I stormed off, aware that many people were staring at me with open mouths.

I sat in one of the stalls for a long time. I wept and hit the walls, desperate to stop feeling the rage of emotions he’d caused.

No single person had ever made me feel so much so strongly before.

After an extreme amount of time, I got up and checked myself in the mirror. My eyes were red and swollen, my nose was running, but other than that it wasn’t too bad. I wet a paper towel and held it over my eyes for a few moments before smoothing my wild hair and going out to my friends. I ignored their questions and sat back down.

“We’re out of drinks,” someone said.

“I’ll go get us another round,” I volunteered, painfully aware of Jamie’s eyes still on me.

I had no idea where he was in the room, but I could still feel him like we were magnets.

At the bar, I ordered another round of shots for the girls and a glass of whiskey for myself.

“Whiskey, is it?” said a smooth voice I didn’t recognize.

Turning, I smiled at the man who held a glass up to me in toast.

“Yes,” I answered. “I’m rather fond of it.”

“As am I.”

***

She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. He’d taken a photo of her with him when he’d gone. Every night, he’d pray for her, pray that she was well.

He hadn’t wanted to go out tonight, but his best friend (and brother-in-law) had asked for a night out. Ian had lost his leg during their secret mission. Jamie had made a promise to Jenny that he’d bring Ian home and he had. The physical therapy after the loss had been difficult, to Jamie’s knowledge, but Jenny had been there for it.

Ian came and sat down in a booth far from the women Claire had been with.

“What’s the matter wi’ ye, man? Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost!”

“I have.”

“Jamie, lad, I was only joking.”

Jamie shook his head.

“ _She’s_ here.”

Ian flinched like he’d taken a blow, his hand rubbing absently at his stump. He was still being fitted for a prosthetic and it hadn’t arrived yet.

“Ye mean… Claire?”

 “Aye. Who else would I bloody mean?”

“Ye dinna need to bite my head off about it, man.” 

Jamie’s head dropped into his hands. 

“I’m sorry, Ian. Ye didna deserve that. It’s just… I didna think she’d be here. I thought… After what happened…”

“Aye. She’s stayed here, got a job at the hospital here and everything. Jenny’s been keeping an eye on her.”

“I thought she would leave. She’d spoken of going to America, but…”

“She couldna leave Scotland, Jamie. Ye broke her heart, but she couldna let ye go.”

Jamie looked up at his best friend.

“I should have married her afore I left.”

“Aye. Ye should have. You’re a damned fool for leaving her.”

Over the white noise of the pub, he heard a door squeak open. Without looking, he knew she was emerging from her solitude. She always needed to be alone after she had an emotional outburst.

He couldn’t _not_ look at her. Seeing her again had made him realize that he hadn’t taken a full breath in over a year. His heart was beating in a normal rhythm now, not lopsided and wrong.  
She went to the bar and leaned against it. Ordering straight whiskey, no doubt. The woman loved Scotch whiskey.

His throat began to close as he suddenly recalled the taste of it on her lips.

Then some bastard started talking to her. The man was in a well cut suit, his brown hair neatly trimmed and combed. He was smiling at her as his eyes wandered over her body.

_**NO!** _

That body didn’t belong to him! It belonged- Jamie shook his head.

Her body didn’t belong to him anymore either. It was hers and hers alone. He’d given up that privilege a long time ago.

“Is it too much, Jamie? Do ye need to go back home?”

“I… I need air. I’ll be back. Order me somethin’ to drink, aye?”

“Strong?”

Jamie glanced over his shoulder back at her just once.

“Aye,” Ian said. “Strong it is.”

Jamie left for the front door and rushed into the cool night air. He stumbled into the dark alley and put his hands on the side of the pub, trying to fight down the strain of emotion.

He wanted her so badly. He needed her. God, what had he done!

***

Sudden movement had me looking away from the visiting professor. Jamie was storming out of the pub, his face a perfect mask.

But the glimpse I’d seen in his eyes told me that he was about to be violently ill. It was the same look he’d gotten when he’d taken me out on a loch in a boat once.

“I’m sorry,” I said, smiling back at the man beside me. “Frank, was it?”

“Yes, madam. Frank Randall.”

“It’s lovely to meet you. If you’re staying near here, perhaps I’ll see you around?”

“You can find me here tomorrow night,” he said with a proud smile.

He thought I would go home with him if he worked hard enough. It was written clearly in his eyes. I’d met men like him before in a pub like this. At a different time in my life, I might have gone with him. But after you have a love like I had, a meaningless fling wasn’t enough.

“Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow, Frank.”

He gave me a nod and I set the tray of drinks down at the table before heading outside.

I didn’t know why I was doing this. I was angry with Jamie. He broke my heart, left me alone holding the pieces.

But I really couldn’t stand seeing him in pain.

I heard the retching before I found him. He was leaning against the wall of the pub, vomiting violently.

“Can’t hold your liquor anymore?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

“It isna the liquor and ye ken it. It’s _her_.”

Clearly he didn’t realize that it was her that was speaking to him.

I said nothing.

 “I still love her, Ian. Worse than I did before. God! I’ve ruined both our lives! She could be happy, maybe, wi’ somebody else. But I ne’er will. My da told me I’d ken the right woman when I found her. And I did. But Christ, Ian! What have I done?”

“You’ve made a right mess of things, I’d say,” I told him.

His head shot up, eyes wide.

“Jesus God, Claire! I didna… I thought you…”

“Is that true?” I asked, fighting back everything I was feeling.

“Every word of it. I’ve never lied to ye before.”

“You’re still in love with me?” 

“Aye. I couldna love another. I gave you my heart a long time ago and didna take it back when I left.”

“No,” I said, my voice cracking. “Because you took mine instead.” I brushed hastily at my cheeks. “Damn you, James Fraser!”

“I’m so sorry, Sa- Claire. So very sorry.” 

He’d nearly called me Sassenach.

I hadn’t heard that word, with the affection he always had, since the last time I’d seen him.

“Jamie, I…”

He was crying too. Damn it! I couldn’t stand to see him weep either!

“I’ve missed you,” I finally said.

“Truly?”

 I looked down at my shoes and nodded.

“Yes. I… I still love you too. I tried to stop. But that was like trying to stop breathing.”

He wiped his mouth of the back of his sleeve and came over to me. My tears were flowing freely now as he dropped to his knees.

“Could ye ever find it somewhere in your heart to forgive me Sa… Sassenach?”

Sinking slowly to my own knees, I put my hand on his chest right over his rapidly beating heart.

“Weren’t you listening? I don’t have my own heart anymore. You have it. But I forgive you, Jamie. You and your damned Scottish stubbornness.”

His arms locked around me like iron and he crushed me to him.

“I will spend the rest of my miserable life making it up to ye, Claire. If ye’ll have me. Christ I’ve missed ye so!”

The part of me that had gone with him, to wherever he’d been, returned to me with such a force I was knocked back. He made a cry, as if in pain, and held me tighter.

“Please,” he begged. “Please, mo nighean donn. Stay wi’ me for a moment more.”

“I wasn’t the one that left, Jamie.”

“And I have regretted that every day since,” he said. “I wrote to ye. As often as I might.”

“I never got any letters.”

“Aye. I couldna send them. Not to Jenny either. I have them, if ye want them. They, along wi’ what little I still have, are yours.”

He pushed me back then, quite suddenly, and looked He pushed me back then, quite suddenly, and looked me dead in the eye.

“Will ye go home wi’ me?”

I saw the hope in his eyes an I knew it wasn’t because he wanted to make love. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he might. All he wanted was for me to share his life.

“Did ye keep the things I gave ye? My mother’s things?”

I looked away from him. My knees were beginning to ache and I hated crying.

“C-Claire. Did ye?”

“Yes,” I barked a him. I stood then, dusting off my knees. “I did keep those bloody things. I put them in a box to send Jenny half a dozen times but I couldn’t do it. I don’t wear them, mind you. But… Getting rid of them meant…”

“Getting rid o’ them meant I’d never fetch them back,” he finished softly, also getting to his feet.

“I tried to find someone else,” I blurted. “I tried dating other men. But they all seemed… Incomplete somehow.”

“Because ye had a true love that I threw to shit.”

“If we do this again,” I said, worried my heart and mind were already working together. “It has to be real. I can’t… I can’t go through that a second time. I won’t survive.”

“If ye agree to let yourself love me again, Claire, ye willna have to. We’ll be married as soon as ye say ye want it. No more waiting.”

“You won’t be sent off on some secret mission?”

Something grew dark in his eyes.

“No. I’ve been honorably discharged. I’m free now, to be whatever sort of man I want to be.”

That darkness hadn’t been in his eyes before. What was he hiding?

“And what sort of man is that?”

“The man ye love.”

I couldn’t keep myself back any longer. I missed so much the intimacy we’d had, the life we’d begun building together.

“Alright. I’ll go home with you. But don’t you dare thing you’re getting in my trousers that easily. Let me get my purse and coat.”

“Nothing about you has ever been easy, Sassenach,” he said with a faint smile. “Nothing worthwhile ever is.”

 

***

 

She’d agreed. She was coming over to his flat. He could show her then, give her the letters he’d written, show her the weight he carried. Just to have someone to tell…

He shrugged, as if trying to adjust the fitting of his coat. He needed to tell Ian where he was going.

Inside the pub, Jamie saw Claire talking with the man at the bar again, but he paid them no mind.

“There ye are, man!” Ian said. “I was about to go looking for ye.”

“I have to go, Ian.”

“It looks like she’s leaving, Jamie. We can stay here.”

“No, she’s going wi’ me.”

Ian’s brows shot up nearly to his hairline before he started smiling.

“Is she now? Oh Jenny will be delighted to have her good-sister back!”

“Hush! It’s just to talk things o’er. I owe her that much.”

“Aye. Ye do. And perhaps ye can tell her whatever it is ye refuse to tell me or Jenny.”

Jamie stared at him.

“Wha-”

“Aye. We both ken something’s the matter wi’ ye. If ye dinna want to share wi’ us, that’s fine. But ye need somebody, Jamie. Ye ar’na meant to do this life alone.”

“Ian…”

“Go on. Your lass is waiting.”

Jamie turned and breathed a deep sigh.

The Bible said the truth would set you free. He could only hope that was still true and that this truth he was about to share with Claire would free him.


	2. Hearts in Boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire fight to reconnect after immense heartbreak and Jamie has to decide if he'll share his secret with her.

His flat wasn’t what I’d expected.

It was neat and clean (no real shock there), but it was… Without life. Cold. No photographs hung on the walls, no paintings. Not even interesting furniture. It was a sad place, not something I would ever call a home. It was a place for him to sleep, nothing more.

“Sassenach?” he asked, hanging his military coat in the closet. “Are ye alright?”

“It’s so… Sad.”

“Och. Wheel… I try not to spend too much time here. No point in making it welcoming. Ye ken I dinna have people over?”

I sat on the little couch that faced the window, nodding slowly. It was a lovely view. When I looked around, I realized Jamie wasn’t there.

“Jamie?”

“Here, Sassenach. I wanted to fetch ye the letters.”

A beautifully carved wooden box sat in his hands. It was stunning, a deep cherrywood with a lovely carving of a Scottish thistle on the top. He handed it over to me and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms against his chest.

“The letters are in that? It’s beautiful.”

“Aye. I… These letters helped me. I wasna sure if ever ye would see them but I thought they deserved a nice place to rest. This box… It became the place I buried my heart.”

The box opened silently on well-oiled hinges. There were dozens of letters. It seemed like he’d written nearly every day since we’d parted. I picked up the first one as if I held a live bomb.

_My dearest Sassenach,_

_I’ve been gone from you for three days and already, I regret my choice. If I could go back to you and beg your forgiveness, I would do it now. But it is no longer my life that hangs on my ability to do this job. Ian comes with me. I could not leave him to do this with someone else. At least with me, I know he’ll get home. I’ll see to it._

_Part of me wonders if I’ll survive this. Do I want to? I don’t know. If I somehow do, I will make it up to you. You are the breath within me and I feel I cannot breathe without you._

_If I had the time, I’d write to you everything I love about you. But Ian is here and we must leave. I hope that someday, I can give this letter to you._

_Yours,_   
_J_

I looked up at him, folding the letter and putting it back into the envelope it had lived in for the last year.

“Jamie…”

“There’s more there for ye.”

I grabbed the next one, which felt lighter.

It wasn’t much more than a scribbled note.

~~_My dearest Sassenach_ ~~

_Claire,_

_I dreamed about you last night. About that night I gave you my mother’s pearls. I woke long before you did the next morning, though I never told you. I took a photo of you, lying there in my bed, your hair a wild mess, the pearls laying across your bare breasts. Since leaving you, I’ve not had the chance to get the film developed. (Yes, I took it on my da’s old camera, it has actual film.)_

_When I woke from the dream, I needed you badly. I started to cry out for you, but then I recalled what I’d done. God, Claire. If I could take it all back, I would. Every bit of it. You are the only thing I need in this life and I’ve let you go. God may forgive me for making a fool of myself, but I never will._

_Yours,_   
_J_

Letter after letter, I felt my heart aching. Each one was filled with the same bone-deep longing I’d had for the last year. Over and over, he told me different things he loved about me. What he missed about our relationship. How Ian told him that he cried out for me in his sleep. His dreams about our children.

I’d been idly taking note of the dates of the letters until I realized there was a large gap. Several weeks, in fact. I also noticed the handwriting had changed. His usual graceful letters were now blocky and thick, with none of the flowing eloquence they usually held. I glanced up at him, curious. He was still against the wall, his head down.

“Jamie, what happened?”

“It’s all there.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because I canna speak it. Not to Jenny or Ian or the bloody military doctors. Even the damned military therapist couldna make me speak of it.”

Something he was afraid to talk about? That wasn’t like him. Or, it wasn’t like the man I’d known.

“So whatever is in these last letters, no one else knows?”

“No one aside me and that God-damned, black-hearted captain.”

I stared at him in shock. His Catholic roots usually kept him from making such remarks, but I could see the white knuckles on one hand. The other was hidden beneath his arm. As I opened the next letter, my hands shook. There was no greeting, no welcoming remarks. Just a few lines with messy words.

I wish to be dead.

_God. Just let me die. I can’t take more of this._

_Ian is gone. The other two men that were with us are dead. There’s nothing more for me. Why won’t the bastard just kill me? Hasn’t he had his fun?_

_Please._

_Just one last look at your face, Claire. Then God can punish me in what way He sees fit. Perhaps this is my punishment for not accepting His gift._

_I can hear you yelling at me, when I close my eyes. It displeases him, for it always makes me smile. You tell me to keep fighting. That I’m a damned stubborn Fraser and if I give up, you would come and give me a swift kick in the bullocks._

_I’m sorry._

It took me a moment to realize the moisture on the page was from my tears. I set the letter down with hands shaking even worse than before and looked up at him.

“The answers ye seek are in the last one, Claire. Then ye’ll ken the truth.”

Surely this one was a live bomb. It felt heavy enough in my hands.

_~~Dear~~ _

_~~My Dear~~ _

_~~My Dearest~~ _

_Claire._

_The last letter I wrote you has probably frightened you. No wonder. I will tell you what has happened and why I despaired._

_Ian, the men and I were captured by a rogue. He instructed us to call him Black Jack and nothing else. I’ve no notion what his true name is, but Black Jack fits him._

_We knew the officers were working to get us home, but they had no idea where we’d been taken. Truth be told, neither did we. Ian suffered a bad injury to his leg which had begun to fester. One of our companions had disappeared with Black Jack and did not return. I heard the screaming. I still hear it._

_The other man disappeared the day after the first. He also did not come back. Ian’s leg grew worse and I knew he needed to be released to save his life. I’d given Jenny my word that Ian would return to her._

_Black Jack told me he’d let Ian go, but there had to be something in it for him. So I agreed to remain as his prisoner until he saw fit to release me. Both he and I knew that meant he would kill me, but I had not the heart to tell Ian. I saw Ian safe and returned to Black Jack._

_He did all he could to break me. I was flogged to the bone with a whip. There were bits of metal or stone tied on the ends, so it cut into my flesh and tore chunks of me away with it._

_But even that was nothing compared to the heartache I will carry for the rest of my life. The more he hurt me, the more I thought of you, my own. I’ve no right to call you that. By now, you’ve hopefully moved on and are happy. That’s all I want for you._

_I still love you and I wish for nothing more than to return to your arms and beg your forgiveness and grace, which I do not deserve._

_He was not satisfied with the flogging. Less than a day after, while my back still hurt and bled, he took me to a different room and continued to torture me. You’ve no doubt noticed that my handwriting is messy and nearly illegible. I apologize for that. It has taken me nearly a week to write this much as it pains me greatly to hold a pen for any length of time._

_He nailed my hand to a table. I’m lucky to have any use of my hand, the surgeon informed me. I wished you were the one to do the work to my hand. I know you would have made it as beautiful as it could be._

_He also smashed my hand with the same wooden mallet, while I was nailed in place. That is why some of my fingers cannot grip the pen properly. One of my fingers does not fold in any longer because of the damage._

_Black Jack offered me a way out, before he damaged my hand. He told me that he would set me free without killing me, if only I agreed to one last thing._

_If I made free of my body to him, he would take his pleasure of me and drop me at the military base I’d come from._

_To be perfectly honest, I wanted to Claire. I wanted to make it stop. I didn’t care if he killed me or not. I was in so much pain it was like I was drunk. I thought of your face the last I saw it, puffed and blazing with anger._

_But… Again, I heard you yell at me. I felt your kiss on my lips, your hands grabbing my arse while I made love to you that first time. God I miss you so! So I denied him. I told him that I would not give myself to his sick pleasures but he was welcome to try and change my mind. (You know what I’m like once I’ve set my mind to something.)_

_That was when he nailed my hand to the table and broke it with the mallet._

_Seven hours after that, they found me. I was brought out, he was arrested and I was taken to be looked after. Ian lost his leg because of the infection. I’ll never regain full movement in my left hand, but the nurse told me writing would be a good exercise for me._

_I will never stop regretting my choice to leave. Had I stayed with you, ask you’d asked, I would be a whole man. Now, as it stands, I am much less than that. Ian doesn’t know what I suffered to free him, nor does Jenny. They tell me I can go home tomorrow, but I’ve no home without you._

_If somehow you read this, all I wish to tell you is that I’m sorry. I will find you when I return and am able. If you have moved on and are with another man, I will not bother you. I will leave you to your peace. Just know this. There was not one moment of my life since last I saw you that I did not think of you. It is you and you alone that I love with my whole being. You and you alone are the reason I survived that bastard._

_I am so sorry._

_Ever Yours,_   
_James Fraser_

The page fell into the box and I stared up at him. I was weeping openly, my body shaking with the power of the truth I’d just learned.

He loved me.

He hadn’t stopped loving me.

“Oh Jamie,” I breathed, standing. “My God, Jamie. I had no idea…”

“No one does.”

“May… May I see?”

He stood up tall and offered me the damaged hand. I examined the surgical scars and traced them gently.

“Claire, I must say something first, if ye wish to see my back.”

“What?”

“It’s all true. I havena stopped loving you and I never will. I want to love you properly once more, but I willna be wi’ you out of pity. I willna accept your pity of me, either. If ye decide, by some miracle of God, that ye’ll give me another chance, it mustn’t be out of pity.”

I dropped his hand and looked him in the eye.

That darkness was still there, but I understood it now. He’d sold a part of himself to save his brother in law, and he hadn’t had much of himself to begin with.

“Show me.”

“Tell me first.”

“Show me the scars on your back, James Fraser.”

Clenching his teeth, he pulled his white undershirt off and turned his back to me.

It was horrible.

It was beautiful.

Very gently, I began tracing the webwork of thick scars, marveling that anyone had survived such brutal treatment. The scars were the puffy pink of the recently healed, though obviously no longer painful. Every muscle under his skin was taut and trembling, like he was about to fly to pieces. And why wouldn’t he be? No one else on earth had seen this.

On impulse, I leaned forward and softly kissed his back.

That broke him.

He started shaking and I knew he was finally letting out his feelings from the torture. I turned him quickly toward me and put my arms around him. His legs gave out and we fell to the floor. His knee hit my thigh hard and I felt the bruise beginning, but I didn’t care.

I pulled his head into my lap and stroked his short hair as softly as I could.

“Come, lay your head man,” I repeated over and over.

A long time later, I felt him relax. He wasn’t sleeping, but he would be soon.

“Jamie?”

“Aye?”

“I love you.”

“And I, you. I dinna deserve you, Claire.”

“No, you don’t. But I don’t want anyone else. And it isn’t pity. I want you for you. Lay your head and rest. I’ll keep you safe.”

He was completely asleep before she’d finished speaking.

As she watched him, she knew that he wasn’t healed. He was still a very broken man. But this was a step in the right direction. Letting the secret out took away the power it held. Until tonight, Black Jack had still been torturing him. No longer.

“He’s mine, you bastard,” I said out loud. “You don’t have him anymore.”


	3. Remembering What Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire are working to find the intimacy they'd once had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few sections in this chapter where Gaelic is spoken. To make reading easier (and in an effort not to butcher a language) I've kept the words in English, but italicized them within the quote marks to denote the change of language.
> 
> Also this chapter does get a little explicit.

It wasn’t a long sleep. He woke shortly after he’d truly fallen under.  But she was still there, gently stroking his hair and humming to him.

She’d done that the first time they’d made love, just before she fell asleep.

He remembered it like it had happened moments before, and not months.

 

**The candles had burned low, her face still shining with perspiration. He’d never seen anything so lovely. She was facing him, one arm curled beneath her head. Her eyes were closed still, but she was smiling.**

**“How do ye feel, my own,” he’d asked.**

**“Like a woman in love,” she’d muttered back.**

**Then she’d wriggled herself closer to him and stroked his hair while humming a song he didn’t recognize.**

 

“I love you,” he said before opening his eyes.

“Yes, you said.”

“I mean it, Claire. I love you.”

“I know. I love you too, Jamie.”

When he looked up, still a little afraid she’d only been a dream, he smiled. 

“Ye havena left me. And it wasna a dream.”

“No. I haven’t gone anywhere. Though… Your flat is so depressing Jamie.”

“Aye. It’s a good show of what I felt when I bought it.”

She sighed. Her breath smelled of whiskey.

“Perhaps…”

He watched her thoughts flicker over her face. Always had a glass face, his Claire Beauchamp.

She was harder to read now, though. Things weren’t written clear as day. Was it because they’d spent so much time apart? Or was it because he’d forced her to become a different woman?

Either way, he wanted to learn her again, to be able to see her and know her mind.

“Speak your mind, Sassenach.”

“I want… God I don’t know what I want Jamie.”

“Aye, ye do.”

He sat up and took her hand in his. It was colder than he remembered, but just as strong and soft.

“I’m afraid that if I go home right now I’ll wake up tomorrow and this will have been another dream.”

His ears pricked up.

“Another?”

Light pink color colored her cheeks.

“Well… Right after you… Left. I had dreams that you’d come back and sweep me off my feet and take me away.”

“You… Ye could stay wi’ me. If you’ll have me.”

Her eyes moved around his flat once more. This wasn’t a place worthy of her. She was the brightest thing in the whole room.

“Perhaps you’d like to… Maybe come over to my flat?”

His heart did it’s best to leap out of his chest.

“Would ye have me over? Are ye sure, Sassenach?”

She looked back at the box on the couch where she’d left it.

“You trusted me with your secret,” she said, not taking her eyes from the letters. “Fair’s fair. I can trust you with knowing where I live.”

Would he never stop weeping? God, just to have her so close was more than he’d dared to hope for.

“I would be honored, Claire.”

He helped her to her feet and took a full breath. She wobbled a little and he wondered if she’d eaten anything.

“Did ye have whiskey on an empty stomach again, Sassenach?”

“Well I forgot to eat. A big stubborn Scot walked into the pub.”

“Would ye like for me to drive ye?”

“That would probably be best. My car is still at the pub, though.”

“It’s a short walk, ye ken.”

With unspeakable joy, he watched her as she gently folded his letters back up and but them into the box. He picked up his shirt from the floor an put it back on. He shrugged on a thin coat over it, to keep the marks on his back hidden further. With her bag over her shoulder, she picked up the box and nodded.

“Alright. I’m ready.”

With the keys to his own flat in his hands, he walked with her to her car.

As she gave him directions to her home, he realized he’d been there before. 

More than once. 

Several times, in fact.

“Ye never moved,” he said.

“No. I tried. But I just couldn’t. I wanted to leave the memories behind, but I…”

When she pulled her own keys from her back, he almost started crying again.

He had given her so many gifts, things that had meant something to him. His mother’s ring and pearls. The family brooch. The Fraser family crest in pewter no longer hung from her keys.

“Did… Did ye no’ keep the crest?”

“Yes,” she said, pushing the door open. “I did. It was supposed to be my family crest too and, well… I got attached to it. But I couldn’t look at it every day.”

Desperately he wanted to tell her she still could become a Fraser. But it wasn’t time yet. They needed to rebuild their relationship first.

It wasn’t exactly as he’d last seen, a few things had changed. The pictures on the walls were different, none of them together. 

She’d traveled a bit, it would seem. There were photos from all over Scotland.

“It’s close to the hospital,” she said. “I can walk most days. And I’ve lived here for a little while. I couldn’t leave.”

“Aye. That ye have. Claire, may… May I kiss ye?”

He saw that she was gripping the box tightly.

“I would like that.”

Cupping her face in his hands, he couldn’t bring himself to move. Just holding her, seeing her, knowing she accepted him back, however tentatively.

Her lips were soft. Christ! They were soft as bairn’s backside. Even if he didn’t remember the details of what she enjoyed when he kissed her, his body did. One of his hands moved from her face to grip her wild curls tightly. He pulled, just a little and kissed her harder. The box pressed between them, even as she opened her mouth to him.

“ _I want so badly to have you, my love_ ,” he whispered in Gaelic.

Surely she wouldn’t remember the lessons he’d given her. Those late nights, seeing each other only by moonlight, her mispronouncing everything he taught her.

She stepped back from him and set the box down.

“ _You’re still the only one_ ,” she answered him.

In. Gaelic.

“Truly?” He asked, in English once more.

“Y-yes. A few friends set me up once or twice with men they thought I’d like. I kissed one of them because I’d had too much to drink with dinner, but he… He didn’t know what he was doing.”

“It’s only ever been you, mo ghraidh. Only you. I’ve never had another.”

“I still remember your Gaelic lessons. Some of them, at least.”

“I still say it sounds a trifle strange in an English accent.”

“ _Stop talking and kiss me_ ,” she said, taking hold of the collar on his coat.

How could he deny her when she was speaking his native tongue? These were the words he’d learned as a child from his father and mother. 

Now with no box in the way, he could feel her body pressed hard against his. This time, it was she that took control, pulling him closer and tugging at his hair.

“Will ye take me as I am, Claire? For the sake of the man I was?”

She looked up at him, breathing hard.

“ _Promise_ ,” she said softly. “ _Promise that you won’t leave me again._ ”

Gaelic did sound odd in an English accent, but coming from her it was beautiful. It made his damned cock twitch.

“ _I swear to you that you have my fealty and loyalty. I shall spend my life making up to you what pain I’ve caused. I pledge to you my life if you’ll have it._ ”

“Yes,” she breathed, hands sliding down to his chest before pushing the coat from his shoulders. “I’ll have it.”

Before his libido ran away with him completely, he pushed himself away for a brief moment.

“Claire,” he choked out. How had only a year of abstinence made him this desperate? “I need ye to be sure about this. As I’ve said, I’ve no’ had another. I’m afraid that once I start, I canna stop.”

His heart burst when she nodded and pulled off her shirt.

“Then don’t stop.”

He didn’t remember walking to her again. Or pushing her against the wall. Or wrenching at the wee belt around her waist.

“No,” he growled, forcing himself back. “I’ll no’ use ye in this way.”

Whiskey burned at him with fury and lust.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

They were both heaving and panting, her hair coming out of it’s pins.

“I get a chance t’ love ye properly, Sassenach, by some miracle of God. I’ll no’ use ye against a wall like a lust-crazed animal.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “At least no’ this time.”

“What the hell are you going on about?”

“Come wi’ me.”

Pulling her from the wall, he gathered her up in his arms and walked them down to her bedroom.

Claire Beauchamp would never be described as materialistic. All of her things were practical and comfortable. Homy even. She had a few trinkets she’d gotten from her uncle, the very few belongings from her parents. But very little else besides those things. He set her down on her feet and watched as she pulled off her shoes.

The artificial light in the room caught on someting that sat beneath her nightstand. A tin box.

“What’s that?” he asked, nodding toward it as he began removing his own shoes.

“Oh… That tin?”

“Aye.”

“Well… You had a box that you put your letters in. I had a box that I put you in.”

He wanted to ask to see it, for her to share that hidden piece of herself with him. But it had to be her choice.

“Would you like to see it?”

“Aye, if ye wish to share it.”

She nodded to the bed and he sat down, peeling his socks off. A moment later, she sat down beside him, hand resting on top of the box.

“You said that the box you’d put the letters in was where you’d buried your heart. This is where I put mine.”

With a little effort, she pried the lid off.

She hadn’t destroyed the photographs. There were so many of them he couldn’t help but reach out to touch them.

 

**The first time they’d gone to Lallybroch together.**

**Spending the day fishing beside the loch.**

**Visiting the Highland games.**

**A picnic at the hospital.**

**Some photos of them cuddling together in the early morning.**

 

Countless others. So many memories that he’d thought were long forgotten in his own mind.

And then he saw them. The necklace, the ring, and the family brooch. Christ. She’d really kept them.

“I wanted to set the pictures on fire,” she said quietly. “Right after you left. I hated you for a long time.”

“I deserved it. But ye kept them. And I’m glad of it.”

Setting the photos back into the tin gently, he took both her hands in his own and looked her in the eye.

“Claire, I’m sorry. Truly.”

“Don’t say anything more,” she said. “Just come home to me, James Fraser.”

Ignoring his primal urges for the moment, he put the box back where she’d taken it from. But he could ignore them no longer. Hands reached for her greedily and he bore her back onto the bed. Somehow it felt like the first time again, that first night.

In a way, it was the first time.

She didn’t know the man he was and he didn’t know the woman she’d become. In some ways, they were the same. In a lot of ways, they weren’t.

But holy Mary Mother of GOD her body hadn’t changed. She was still soft and curved and cool.

Those nights he’d spent alone and bleeding, he’d thought about her. He’d tried to remember how she felt in his hands, how she’d trembled for him. Those memories had saved him. They’d given him something to fight for.

He’d never imagined that she would actually take him back. And here she was, throwing the rest of her clothes over the side of the bed.

It had been far too long since he’d shared her bed. With eager desperation, his mouth moved from hers and down her neck. Kissing, biting, licking. Her hands were pulling at his short hair. He’d kept it trimmed and neat, even after his discharge, but perhaps he’d let it grow out a bit.

Then he found her bare breast. He might have made a sound when he finally kissed it, but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was her filling his mouth and mind. He sucked liberally on her nipple until she began to moan. His need for her was growing worse, but he wanted to take his time.

“Oh, Jamie…”  
Sitting up, he pulled off his shirt. She looked up at him, her eyes wandering over his torso. There were more scars there too.

One was circular in shape, though ragged and puffy. Her eyes landed on it and she reached forward to touch it.

When her fingers rested on top of it, he put his hand over hers.

“Was this him? Did he do this to you?”

“Aye. He branded me wi’ his signet ring. So I’d always belong to him.”

Moving both their hands, she kissed it very softly.

“You don’t belong to him any longer, Jamie.”

“Aye, Sassenach. I dinna. No’ anymore.”

Just seeing her, legs open and inviting, smiling up at him… It took everything he had to keep from finishing before he’d even begun.  
Grumbling, he argued with his uniform pants while Claire giggled.

“You really haven’t done this in a while, have you?”

“I told ye as much, ye ken.”

“It’s just good to see you stumble a bit.”

He didn’t have the heart to tel her that part of his struggle was with his uncooperative fingers. But she seemed to notice.

“Does it still hurt you?”

“No. It’s no’ hurt me in some time. It’s just damned irritating when I need to do something fast.”

She smiled.

“Let me.”

Moments later, he was above her again.

“I have dreamt of this for the last year, Claire.”

“But this isn’t a dream anymore.”

“No,” he breathed, slowly filling her. “It isna a dream.”

Christ! She was as tight as any virgin. That meant she’d been truthful too. She really hadn’t been with anyone else.

All other thoughts fled his mind after that.

He really wouldn’t be able to make this as wonderful as he’d hoped. Grinding his hips against hers, he finally remembered what it was like to be whole.

At first, she gripped his shoulders. But as he continued, her hands moved to his back. He flinched a little, not used to feeling someone touch his scars. She’d begun to claw at him, like she had before, but stopped herself. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, back arching to pull him deeper.

Sweet bleeding Jesus had it always been this good?

“If I recall,” he laughed, nipping at the bottom of her ear. “Ye once told me pain wasna always a bad thing.”

To demonstrate his point, he jerked hard against her and carefully bit her breast. It sent her into a wild climax, her legs locking around him as her entire body shook.

“Oh God! Jamie!”

That trembling, feeling her take him in and contract around him, sent him over the edge. He held tight to her, letting his conclusion overtake him for a moment.

“ _I thought my heart was gonna burst_ ,” he muttered quietly. 

Claire laughed gently.

“You said that the first time too.”

“Aye,” he said, kissing her softly. “Was true then as it is now. How do ye feel, Sassenach?”

“Like I’ll be able to sleep for the first time in a year.”

“Do ye work in the morning, then?”

She shook her head, fingers absently tracing the scars on his back.

“No. I took the day off. I thought I’d be too hungover to work.”

“Will ye let me make breakfast, then?”

“Yes. I’d like that. But Jamie…”

He was afraid to look at her. Please don’t let this be a one time thing. He’d just gotten his heart and soul back.

“Aye?”

“After breakfast tomorrow, we need to talk about what this means.”

“Ye’ll no’ kick me out?”

“Why on earth would I do that?”

Frowning down, he pulled himself from her and sat.

“Because I broke your heart, Sassenach.”

“You did. And that’s why we need to talk. But right now, I just want to spend the night with you.”

“Aye. Then lets go to sleep.”

Holding her again, watching her relax into sleep, it healed a part of him. He was still broken, dealing with the things that Black Jack had done to him. But he could almost feel himself being repaired, just by being near her once more.

Perhaps there was hope for them yet.


	4. Hard Talk Over Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire has to be honest about how she feels, both to herself and to Jamie.

When I woke the next morning, I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

I didn’t move, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed. I was naked in my bed, but so was he. My body felt satisfied for the first time in a year, yet my mind did not. The weight of him beside me brought back too many memories of our life before. The life I’d thought I’d have forever. How many nights had we spent side by side, comfortable with our own bodies? Never worrying about how one movement would affect the other. The times I’d wake because I felt him leave the bed. God, how many times?

Too many to count.

But it felt like I didn’t know the man beside me. He was both strange and familiar, yet at the same time neither. Truthfully, I didn’t know who he was anymore. Not the way I’d known the Jamie that left. 

I watched his breathing change as he woke slowly. We’d moved away from each other in the night, the space between us awkward and massive.

I pulled the sheets tight around my body, pushing myself into a sitting position. Like that small barrier between our two bodies would make things easier. Jamie roused himself and sat up as well, neither of us looking at each other. Did he regret what we’d done the night before? Did I?

I couldn’t keep my eyes from the scars on his back, though. That webwork of pain and suffering, forever etched into his skin. 

“Would ye like breakfast, Sassenach?”

I swallowed and smiled a little as his stomach announced its desire to be filled. So many things had changed us, but there were things that likely never would. Jamie Fraser’s appetite was apparently one.

“Yes. Breakfast would be good.”

He started to move from the bed and stopped. I glanced around and realized his clothes were on my side of the bed. Holding the sheets to my chest, I leaned down and gathered them up before handing them over. This was worse than the morning after our first night together.

“Thank you,” he said, giving me a tentative smile. 

Jamie did his best to put something on without exposing himself. When he was at least covered below his waist, he smiled at me and stood.

“Ye mind if I use the loo?”

“No, go right ahead.”

Once he was gone, I ran my hands through my hair. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. The first time I’d seen him in a year and I jumped into bed with him.

“Get a hold of yourself, Beauchamp. Use your brain.”

Dressed, I went out to the kitchen and got the coffee started. Jamie joined me a moment later, puttering around the kitchen starting breakfast. Over twelve months had passed since we last stood in my kitchen like this. He remembered where everything was and he still knew what sorts of things I liked to eat first thing in the morning, as if he’d been here yesterday.

It was irritating. He just waltzed back into my life like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t gone, hadn’t broken my heart, hadn’t destroyed my life. Some small part of me enjoyed watching him cook, he was always so animated and hummed slightly off key. But it was too familiar and that ache I’d been living with for so long came back. It felt like a burning hole in my chest, gaping and ragged.

We bumped into each other often, giving each other small smiles and hesitant looks. None of it felt fully genuine. Like we wanted to smile and decide things were alright, but we both knew they weren’t. I didn’t know what to do. Even when we’d first begun to date we hadn’t been this awkward. 

We sat down at the table and ate in silence. Had my flat always felt so big and empty?

“So what do you do now?” I asked, taking a sip of my coffee.

I needed  _ something _ to fill this silence.

“Havena really decided yet.”

“Oh. Do you have options at least?”

“Aye. I do. Just… There’s a lot to consider afore I make a choice.”

“Of course.”

Silence fell over us again. Why was this so hard?

_ Because you still love him, Beauchamp, _ she thought to herself.  _ You still love him and you’re afraid. _

“Jamie,” I said, looking down into my empty coffee cup.

“Aye. We need to talk about this.”

“What the hell  _ is _ this?”

He took a deep breath.

“What do ye want it to be?”

“Honestly?”

Slowly, Jamie nodded. “All I asked when you agreed to marry me was honesty.”

Fine. If he wanted honesty, that’s what I’d give him.

“What I want is what we had. I want to feel that way again, to be comfortable with you. But… I can’t. I want for the last year to not have happened. I want for my heart to not be in pieces every time I look at you.”

His hands clenched into fists on the table, knuckles turning white as he began to nod.

“I see.”

“I gave you everything and you broke my heart, Jamie. That doesn’t just go away.”

“Aye. I’ve regretted my choice every day since I last saw ye.”

“Regret doesn’t do anything. Nothing about this is that simple. We can’t just pretend nothing happened. I’m not a part of your life and you aren’t a part of mine.”

He looked up at me slowly, his eyes swimming in emotion.

“Do ye wish to be? Part of my life, I mean.”

“I don’t know.”

The tears in his eyes finally broke free, but I couldn’t let it sway me. I hated to see him broken, but he’d broken me.

“Please, Claire. Please let me be part of your life. I love you. I still need you.”

The strength of his emotion made his accent thicken and his voice get deeper.

“Jamie, I-”

“I made the worst mistake of my life by leavin’ ye. I shouldna have done it. I’ll do whatever it takes to show ye what ye mean to me. All I ask for is the chance. Please, Claire. Anything.”

I couldn’t meet his eyes.. The depth of his despair mirrored my own.

“Claire, please.”

I looked down, my hands clenched in my lap. I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face. After a moment I heard his chair scrape against the floor and the quiet padding of his bare feet as he circled the table. He knelt down in front of me, took my hands in his and tried to meet my downcast eyes.  

“I don’t trust you.”

“I know. I know.” He tightened his hands on mine. I still couldn’t meet his eyes --  I knew what I’d see there. “Please, mo ghraidh. Give me a chance to change that.”

“Jamie --”

“I will do everything in my power to regain your trust. I will prove myself to ye. I promise. I ken that my word doesna have the weight it used to-- ”

“No, it doesn’t. You broke your last promise.”

His eyes became suddenly serious. The intensity was almost frightening.

“I never stopped loving you, Claire. Not ever.”

“That isn’t the promise I’m talking about. You promised you’d never leave me, that you’d build a home and a life with me.  _ That _ was the promise you broke. So no, your word doesn’t hold much weight with me right now.” 

He dropped his eyes, whether from guilt or to keep me from seeing his emotion I couldn’t tell. 

“Claire… Please. Tell me what I can do.”

“I…” I did love him. I did want to trust him. Maybe… “We could… how about we just start with coffee and see how that goes.” 

He looked back up. “Aye. Coffee. We can do coffee. When would ye like?”

“I don’t know yet. Give me time to think about it.”

“Of course. Whatever you like.” Hope sprang up in his eyes, glimmering up at me like moving water.

“It can’t be like before. We aren’t the same people. But if we take it slow, start over, maybe… Maybe I can learn how to trust you again.”

He brushed quickly at his face, smiling.

“Whatever ye wish to give me, I’ll be happy with. I’ll make it up to ye, Sassenach. Whatever I can do.”

“This means we can’t sleep together again. Not yet. Not until I can trust you again.”

“Of course. I’ll wait for ye to decide when and if you’re ready.”

I nodded for what felt like the millionth time. Was I making the same mistake twice? There was no way to know, not yet. I just needed to have the courage to try again. Coffee was harmless. We’d be in a public place with visible exits in case I felt the urge to run. There wouldn’t be a feeling of intimacy in it either. It wouldn’t be at either of our homes, it would be safe.

“Thank you, Claire,” he said softly, giving my hands a final squeeze. “I willna let you down.”

“I hope you’re right.”


	5. Going Steady with Slight Trepidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie takes Claire out for coffee in an effort to rebuild the trust they'd once shared.

He was nervous, as if it was the first time he was taking her out. That had been a lifetime ago and they were different people now. She was giving him a second chance and he couldn’t risk any mistakes.

The coffee shop was busy, as it always was. While ordering his drink, he was tempted to order for her as well, to show her that he remembered what her favorite drink was. He stopped himself though. Had they been married or engaged, this kind of gesture would have been acceptable, but not now.

When the little bell above the door dinged, he leapt to his feet. She was here. She’d come. Her head moved slowly from one side to the other, searching for him. He waved his hands to catch her attention.

“Hello, Jamie.”

“I’m glad ye could make it.”

“I almost didn’t.”

He nodded and pulled a chair out for her. She smiled and took it.

“I’m glad ye decided to give me a chance, Sass-- Claire.”

“This is just coffee, Jamie, nothing more. I just  want to see where we stand.”

“Aye. What would ye like to drink?”

She reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet. It was the same one she’d always had, worn but practical. He couldn’t let her pay for her own drink, 

“Please, Claire. Let me?”

For a moment, she looked as if she would decline his offer. Relief flooded through him when she seemed to think better of it.

“Fine. This time, but if there’s a next one I’m buying.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t easy for her, he knew that, but she was trying to give him a chance.

“Deal. What would ye like?”

“Have you forgotten?” she asked with a wry smile.

He shook his head. It had been a long time since he’d felt so comfortable with another person.

“I havena forgotten what it used to be. I didna want to take a liberty of assuming...”

“I appreciate that, Jamie. But I haven’t changed that much. Black coffee, please.”

He ordered their coffees and paid the nice young boy behind the counter with shaking hands. Soldiering hadn’t made him this nervous. But, he supposed, being a soldier did not risk as much as rekindling the only true love you’d ever had. Fighting and dying were easy, compared to offering your tender soul to another living person.

After a subjective eternity, the young man handed both coffees over to him and Jamie went back to where Claire waited.

“So,” he said, trying to find a safe topic of conversation. “How have ye been since I… Er… Left ye? I ken we didna talk all that much.”

“Honestly? Not great. But I’d rather not talk about… that.”

He nodded.

“How have things been at the hospital? It’s been almost two weeks since we… Ah… Weel… Since last we spoke.”

She laughed a little and sipped her coffee.

“You mean since we slept together?”

“Aye.”

“Well, things have been busy. That’s why it took me so long to get back to you about when we could meet up to do this.”

He took a brief moment to look her over. She was in a simple outfit, though she hadn’t ever been one to over-dress. Her hair was only pinned back enough to keep it out of her eyes and she looked lovely. If anything had changed in the year he’d left her, she’d only grown more beautiful.

“That’s all right. You’ve a busy job, but an important one.”

“Thank you. What about you? What are you going to do now?”

He sighed. This was the question everyone asked him, the question he never had an answer to.

“I dinna ken. I’ve got some pay from my discharge, but that willna be enough to live on forever. Ian’s settling in wi’ Jenny and a civilian life. Perhaps have more bairns, now that he’s home for good.”

“And you? Are you going to settle into a civilian life?”

Honesty. With her, he could be honest. He could speak his fears to her and know that she’d not see him differently.

“God, I wish I kent what I wanted, Claire. I’ve no skills outside the military.”

Her brow furrowed and she took another drink while she thought something over.

“You’ve always been good with languages. Perhaps you could teach?”

He shrugged. Jenny had recommended that too, tried to give him papers to get approval started.

“Aye, I could.”

“Even if you don’t teach other languages, perhaps you could do classes and teach Gaelic? You’ve always had a passion for your ancestral language.”

His heart swelled at her words. She knew him better than any other living person. At the same time, guilt tried to drown him again. Claire was his perfect match and he’d thrown it away.

“Perhaps. I dinna ken if I’m meant for a classroom or not. I’ve got some time to work it out, though.”

“You do. I suppose you haven’t got much going on these days.”

He hung his head to hide the truth of her words, for he had few friends, outside Jenny and Ian, no social gatherings, no parties. Nothing to keep his mind from Randall. 

“No’ so much, no. I read a bit, though mostly at night.”

To keep the nightmares of that bastard Randall away, he thought. As if she could read his mind, she spoke kindly.

“Have you been sleeping all right?”

“Ah… Weel… As good as may be.”

Her hand was soft on his, warm from her coffee. She squeezed his hand gently. It was a small comfort, to feel her. She always knew when he hid something from her, which wasn’t often, and the solace he felt in her touch always had him spilling his soul to her.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. For what he did.”

He gave her the best smile he could. She didn’t know the worst of it. No one besides himself and Randall knew everything.

“Och, dinna fash about it. I’ll be alright.”

She returned the smile and pulled her hand back.

When her cell phone rang, he politely drank his coffee while she answered it.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, starting to stand. “There’s been an accident, and they need all the help they can get.”

“You’ve a calling to heal and help. I’ll no’ keep ye.”

She hesitated, bag in hand.

“Thank you, Jamie. Ah… Perhaps we could, uh… Do this again, sometime?”

He swallowed, not daring to trust the excitement bubbling in his chest.

“Truly? Ye wish to go out again?”

“This went well, I think. So long as we go slowly, I think another date wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Aye. I’d like that. May I call ye? Or drop a text when you’re no’ busy?”

She hesitated, thinking over what he’d asked.

“Yes. I’d like that. Then we can coordinate and make plans again.”

“Aye. Good. Go save lives.”

That made her smile bright. With a final nod, she turned and left.

***

In the two weeks between their coffee date and their agreed upon second date, they’d begun to speak on the phone regularly. They were getting comfortable with each other again, which he thought was a step in the right direction. They’d agreed on a second date and set up a time for him to go pick her up. It was a little more than just a coffee date, but not as formal as going out to dinner. 

He drove to her flat and knocked gently on her door. She opened it and smiled at him. Today her hair was down and as wild as he’d ever seen.

“Good afternoon,” she said, stepping out and turning to lock the door.

“Good afternoon, Sass- Claire.”

Looking up at him, she seemed to have come to some sort of decision.

“You can call me Sassenach, if you like.”

In truth, he hadn’t really ever stopped calling her Sassenach. Not in his head, anyway. That’s who she was to him; his Sassenach.

“I dinna want to be too familiar wi’ ye yet. That was something I used to say... before. And ye said ye wished to take things slow, aye?”

She nodded as they walked out to his car, close but not quite touching.

“You’re letting me set the pace for our whole relationship. And you’ve been nothing but respectful of my boundaries. I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

They got into his car, and he drove them downtown. There was a local antique shop that had recently opened, and he thought it would be a nice place to go.

“Weel,” he said a short time later as he parked. “It’s a wee bit of a walk to our destination, but it’s a nice day.”

“I noticed,” she smiled, peering out the window. “The sun’s almost completely out.”

“Aye, it is. Thought we could take advantage of it while we had it.”

“So,  where are we going?”

“There’s a new shop I wanted to take ye to. Maybe we can grab lunch after, if ye’ve nowhere to be?”

Claire nodded.

“I’d like that. As long as you let me buy lunch this time.”

He smiled at her.  _God, he’d missed her._  The way her face lit up when she smiled at him made his heartbeat race.

“Aye. That was the agreement.”

“Excellent. Then let’s go.”

They  talked as they walked toward the shop, stopping every so often to peer in a shop window. The antique store was a quaint little thing, filled with oddities acquired from rummage and estate sales. Claire was enamored with some of the ancient medical equipment, often rolling her eyes at different tools. The elderly sisters that owned the shop came around and spoke with them, pleased to see a ‘sweet young couple’ out and about.

A rusty tool caught her eye, and she stared longingly at it.

“What is that?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I think they were used to remove bad teeth.”

They looked much too large and sinister to be such a simple object.

“Wi’ that?”

“Yes. Thankfully dentistry has changed quite a bit in two hundred years.”

He nodded as he checked the price.

“Aye. I wouldna want this thing anywhere near my mouth.”

She sighed and put them back on their shelf. Jamie picked them up almost immediately.

“What are you doing?”

“I think I’m buying ye a wee gift.”

Claire began to shake her head in protest.

“No, Jamie you don’t have to do that.”

“That’s why it’s a gift, Sassenach. Please let me?”

With a sigh of resignation, she gave in.

“Oh, all right.”

Once his purchase was complete, he handed the wee bag over to her with a bright grin.

“Hungry?” Claire asked as they left the shop.

“Aye, verra hungry.”

She snorted.

“I heard your stomach from across the room. Some things don’t change. Do you still keep snacks in your nightstand?”

Her unexpected question made him laugh harder than he had in a long while.

“Aye, I do. Ian made sure to stay near me whenever we did anything;, there was always something to eat in my pockets.”

“Well, you won’t be forced to raid your stash just yet. Come on, I know a place that has wonderful sandwiches.”

On an impulse, he offered his arm to her. To his surprise, she took it and linked her arm through his. Nearly two hours later, they still sat at the small table just outside the sandwich shop, Claire laughing heartily. Empty plates had been pushed aside, forgotten in their conversation.

“Angus actually said that?”

“Aye. He did. Our commanding officer had him cleaning the loo for a month.”

“I wish that surprised me, but… It is Angus.”

“Angus will always be the same, I think,” he said, wheezing and trying to catch his breath.

Tears ran down both of their faces, neither able to take a full breath through their giggles and snorts. Claire sighed and smiled softly at him.

“This was very nice, Jamie. Thank you.”

“You’re verra welcome, Sassenach.”

When the silence fell, he worried it would be uncomfortable or awkward, the way things were in the beginning of a new relationship. But that feeling never came, only a warm and comfortable silence between them. Neither felt the need to fill it, simply letting the space remain as it was. They stared at each other for a long minute. He studied her, the way her hair curled and shone in the sunlight. Or the glitter in her eyes as she smiled. How her cheeks turned pink when she laughed too hard. Anything and everything he could see, he locked away as a happy memory.

“Would you like to go out again?” she asked suddenly.

“Aye,” he said without hesitation. “I would.”

“So would I.”

“A proper date. I’ll take ye out for a nice dinner.”

She nodded slowly at his words.

“That would be lovely.”

“Good. Shall I take ye home, then?”

“Please. I’ve got a few errands I need to run today. But this has been fun.”

Strolling comfortably back to his car, she took his hand and laced her fingers through his. He gave it a gentle squeeze, happy that she’d initiated the contact. The trust between them was beginning to grow again, giving him more peace than he’d felt in over a year.

As he drove her back to her flat, she took her odd dentistry tool out of the bag to inspect it closer.

“Now I have to get you something,” she muttered.

“No, ye don’t. A gift is given wi’out the expectation of something given in return.”

Claire snorted.

“You said that like you had it memorized.”

“Aye. It’s something my father used to say.”

“He must have been a wise man.”

Jamie nodded and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Talking about his father was never easy, and it only happened with a handful of people.

“Aye, he was a verra wise man.”

When he parked the car outside her flat, he turned to her.

“May I walk ye to your door, Sassenach?”

She sat up a little straighter and put the tool back in the bag and nodded once.

“You may.”

He got out and strode quickly around the car to open the door for her. She accepted his hand as she got out, keeping a hold of it as they made their way to her flat.

The closer they got to it, the more nervous he became.  _What was he to do now? What did she expect of him? Should he kiss her or would that be too much too soon?_  She dropped his hand to dig in her bag for her keys.

Just before she went inside, she looked up at him and smiled.

“Thank you for our lovely date, Jamie. I’ll call you later.”

His mouth opened to reply, but he didn’t get the chance. Claire popped up on her toes and gave him a soft kiss before darting into her flat.

Jamie stood frozen in place. Had she just… But… She’d kissed him. For a moment, he forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything except replay the kiss over and over in his mind. She’d kissed him.

He had no notion of how much time had passed when his brain finally remembered how to function. He shook his head a few times and began to slowly walk back to his car. His fingers moved to his lips, as though to capture the feeling of her mouth against his. All in all, he thought as he sat down in his car, not a bad second date. 


	6. The Devil Sees No Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire have been together again for about 3 months. They're learning more about each other and Jamie makes a big revelation.

With a knock at the door, Jamie put down the book he’d been reading and moved to open the door. His face broke into a bright smile at the sight of her.

“Good evening!” She said with a bright smile to match his.

“Evening, Sassenach. Come in.”

As she walked past him into his flat and he noted her outfit. Claire wasn’t in scrubs or her usual comfortable clothes, but shorts and a tank top. She usually preferred loose fitting shirts and comfortable jeans if she wasn’t in her scrubs. Eyeing her with curiosity, he closed the door and followed her inside.

“Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

“I thought you might like to accompany me out.”

He watched her skeptically, raising one eyebrow in question.

“Out where, exactly?”

One corner of her mouth pulled up in a mischievous smile and she winked at him.

“You’ll just have to come with me to find out.”

Intrigued, he took her hand and followed her out to her car.

After driving for a while, he began to recognize their surroundings. They’d come here on a date a lifetime ago. He’d brought her here because it let them see the entire city below. He hadn’t been back since his discharge from the military.

“Do you remember it?”

“Aye, I do. I havna been here in ages,” he said with a smile creeping into his voice.

“Neither have I.”

Glancing behind him to the back seat he smiled even wider, chuckling a little at the packed meals and blanket to sit on.

“And I see ye brought dinner.”

“Of course I did! I can’t leave you to graze on the grass.”

As she parked, he began to laugh.

“I’ve done that before.”

“Done what?”

“Eaten grass.”

Staring over the top of the car, she rolled her eyes.

“You must be kidding.”

“No. In the military, just before Ian and I were sent on our mission. We were verra hungry, so we did the best we could.”

“Well,” she said, hefting the picnic basket into the crook of her arm and laughing a little. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’ll tell ye, Sassenach. It tasted even worse coming back up than it had going down.”

Laughing harder, she took his arm as they headed away from the car. They hiked up to their favorite spot and sat down to have their dinner. They talked comfortably and watched the town below sink into a comfortable night.

“I suppose we should go,” Claire said with a contented sigh.

“Aye, we should. Ye must work early.”

“I don’t work early this week. Oh! You need to come by my flat. You left your coat there when you came over last week.”

He smiled as he helped pack up their dinner.

“It’s up to you, Sassenach, where I go. Ye drove me here.”

“Captive audience then?”

He laughed, but those words echoed inside his head in a different voice. 

_No! Not now, not here, not with her._  She’d driven his demons away. They couldn’t come back now.

The climb down the hill was a bit harder than they’d expected it to be, considering they couldn’t see their footing. Dark had set in faster than they’d been prepared for. He caught her once when her foot slipped on a loose rock, but they made it back to the car safely.

As she drove back to her flat he fell into a sort of daze, leaving him somewhere between sleeping and waking. 

Finally home, she led him inside where he collapsed onto the couch.

“You alright?”

He nodded his head.

“Aye, I’m fine. Just a bit drowsy.”

When she got quiet, he opened one eye to look at her. The expression on her face was odd, not one he recognized. It was like she was seeing something that didn’t make any sense to her.

“You know something I haven’t done in a long time?” she asked, handing over his coat.

“What’s that?” he asked, letting his eyes close again.

“Stargaze.”

Peeling his eyes open, he nodded at her.

“Aye. I havena in some time either.”

“Come on. It’ll be a tight fit, but I think you and I can cuddle up on the balcony.”

“That sounds verra nice. But I canna promise I’ll stay awake long.”

After some maneuvering they were just barely able to fit. Having to lay partially on top of him, she shifted a bit leaning her head on his shoulder as he used his free arm to wrap the blanket around them.

“I never get tired of seeing it,” he said absently.

“Neither do I. It’s just so beautiful.”

“Aye. It is.”

The warmth of the blanket mixed with her steady breathing had him dozing in a matter of moments.

_He was so tired. All he wanted to do was curl up and sleep for a month._

_But he couldn’t._

_Sleep meant pain._

_He’d lost track how long it had been since Ian left. One day? Six?_

_When had he last slept?_

_“You dozed off again.”_

_His body trembled with exhaustion and cold. His clothes were long gone. Black Jack came to him again. Something bit his skin and warmth flooded him._

_Claire was smiling at him, her face glowing in candlelight. She was so beautiful._

_“I love you, Jamie.”_

_“And I love you, my Sassenach.”_

_“Come and kiss me.”_

_He did, thoroughly. She tasted different, he thought blearily. Something pricked his skin again and the warm feeling faded._

_As it did, he realized that it wasn’t Claire he was kissing._

_He tore himself away, yelling incoherently. He spat over and over until his mouth ran dry._

_“Well it’s no wonder she likes you, if you kiss her like that.”_

_“What did you do to me!”_

_“Is she who you cry for in your sleep?”_

_“I havena slept in a week and ye ken it well, ye bastard.”_

_“But you call for her, do you not? When the pain is too much to bear, you beg for her to help you.”_

Jamie’s eyes snapped open and he stared up at the stars.

He hadn’t had that nightmare in some time. For a few moments, he remained still to gather himself. The body pressed close was tense. Had he cried out in his sleep?

“Jamie?” she asked, very gently. “What else did he do to you? I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until I heard you crying.”

For a long time, he said nothing, trying simply to ignore the feelings that had returned to him. But he couldn’t hide it anymore, couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened.

“He was a cruel bastard, ye ken?”

“You said he tortured you.”

Claire shifted in his arms, trying to turn and look at him. He shook his head and forced himself to count his breaths.

“I… I canna speak it if ye look at me.”

She lay back down on her side, her head resting against his chest.

“He wanted to break me for a reason only he kent. At first he beat me and wouldna let me sleep, but that wasna all bad. I was exhausted, but I could handle it. But then he got… Weel, I suppose he got bored. So he started beating me whenever I fell asleep. A few days of that and…”

Her arm that was wrapped around him tightened a little.

“Sleep deprivation is a powerful tool,” she said softly.

“Aye, it is. He used it to convince me he’d killed ye. That he’d killed ye because I loved ye.”

A soft gasp caught in her throat at his words.

_“I found her, your precious Claire; my, my, she’s got a set of lungs on her, doesn’t she? She can scream so well.”_

He shuddered again as that voice came back to him.

“God, I cried for days, I couldna eat, probably wouldna have been able to sleep even if he’d let me. I fought against it, sure he didna ken who ye were. I didna give any full names, even in that state. No’ Jenny or Ian or you… But, then he came in wi’ a pair of scrubs, like those blue ones ye like to wear. They were covered in blood, torn. He told me it was your blood, that he’d killed ye because I wouldna break.”

Silence covered them again as he fought against his demons and nightmares.

“He… He drugged me. I dinna ken what he used. But it made me see things. Things that werena there. Most of what I saw was just you.”

He could taste it all over again, like it was still happening: the way the drugs had made his mouth go dry. The way the flavor of her mouth against his had thrilled his whole body. The way the realization of what was really happening had made him throw up.

“He made me think it was you, Claire. That it was you in that hell wi’ me, no’ him.”

“What did he do?” she asked in a whisper.

“I havena dreamed of it in weeks. The drugs he gave me made everything feel so real, Claire. I could feel yer hair between my fingers, I could feel the sun on yer skin, taste yer lips against mine. But the drugs wore off, ye see; and I kent it wasna you I was kissing, it was him.”

“Oh Jamie…”

“It didna… I mean he didna… I think he wanted to, but he didna have the time. I didna ken what was real and what wasna for a long time after that. I was afraid to be tired, more afraid to sleep.”

“My God, Jamie. I’m so sorry.”

Rather than close his eyes again, he stared up at the stars, using that as a  reminder of where he was and who he was with.

“The military doctors only kent about the drugs, but no’ about the other. I couldna write it down in the letters to ye. He made me… He made me less of a man when he did those things to me, made me do those things. Wi’ the drugs, he made me cut myself. The scars on my chest, most of those are my own doing.”

“I’m so sorry. That wasn’t your fault, though. You know that, don’t you? It was the drugs and the torture. I truly appreciate you telling me all this.”

_“Having a captive audience is my favorite. You can’t get away from me like this. Even if by some miracle, you get out of this place, I’ll be there, with you all the time.”_

“I was his captive audience, ken?”

“Oh God. I said that to you earlier, didn’t I?”

“It’s no’ your fault, Sassenach.”

“Jamie I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It isna your fault. The letters I wrote ye gave ye some notion, but no’ the full story. I wasna sure how to write it down and tell ye.”

He could feel her shaking breaths as she fought her own emotion over what he’d told her. They grew quiet for a long time, watching as the stars glittered in the black velvet sky.

“He offered me a way out, ken?”

“He did?”

All he could do was nod, his voice not being steady enough to speak. Her arm tightened around him again.

“Wh-what did he want in return?”

“Me. If I gave myself to him, let him do as he wished, he’d let me go. Promised to drop me at the military base and I’d never see him again.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He wanted to take something from me, something I’d only ever given to one person in my life.”

She shifted and sat up. He could just see the outline of her face in the moonlight, but still couldn’t look at her.

“Tell me what he wanted, Jamie. You can’t move on and really heal unless you talk about it.”

“It doesna matter if I talk about it or not! He’s always there, inside my bloody head; talking to me, taunting me, telling me that he’s killed ye. Nothing I do makes it stop! No’ a damn thing! What will talking get me? How do I tell ye that I almost let him do it? I almost let that sadistic bastard rape me because I thought he’d taken ye prisoner. That ye were so near to me, but I couldna save ye. How do I tell ye that I asked him to kill me? Begged him for it? I canna take my own life, but if he would just make it stop, just for a moment… How, Claire? How can I tell ye these things and have a hope that ye willna leave? I’m a broken man, no piece of me hasna been touched by that darkness.”

“Surely some pieces of you haven’t been touched; your heart is still whole, isn’t it?”

“Closer to it now, maybe. But it wasna whole while I was wi’ him; it hasna been whole since I left ye.”

The storm of emotion inside him still raged on, but it was beginning to calm. Her cool hand came slowly up and began stroking his hair. That simple touch began to quell the whirlwind, her strength and calm coming over him like a blanket. 

“It’s alright,” she whispered in a soothing voice. “I’m here now. You’ll be alright, Jamie.”

If he just closed his eyes, listened to her breathing, and felt her heartbeat, he could forget. He could forget about Black Jack. He could forget about the time he’d spent apart from her, he could forget that he bore the scars of a monster. He could forget all else and just…  _be_.


	7. The Fear of Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire has a choice to make.

The night around us was still and quiet, peaceful. We still lay beside each other beneath the stars with Jamie fast asleep. The weight of his confession was staggering. I’d thought, after he’d told me what Black Jack had done to him, that there had been something else he’d been hiding. Something in his eyes hadn’t been right when he’d spoken of it, like he’d carefully chosen each word to be sure nothing slipped out. I could never have imagined that he’d been tortured so severely, it wasn’t just the physical damage, but the psychological too. Worse yet, knowing that I had been one of the tools used to try and break him cut me to my core. I wondered how much Ian or Jenny knew. Jamie had said that he hadn’t shared with anyone, but I’d spent enough time around the three of them to know words were not necessary to share information. 

Jamie slept soundly, curled against me. Vaguely, I thought he looked very much like a child, the way his face was slack and peaceful. What was I to do now, I wondered. With this information he’d shared, he’d showed me his innermost self, the part of him he’d rarely shown me.

During medical school, I’d taken a few psychology courses, but they hadn’t been my focus; I didn’t know enough about it to feel comfortable diagnosing or treating him. Likely he had post-traumatic stress disorder, but other than that, I was at a complete loss.

Rather than focus on things I didn’t have a firm grasp on, I turned my mind to things I did, medicine. Or rather, the drugs that Black Jack had used on Jamie. There was nothing I could do with the information, but it gave my mind something to dwell on - something other than his torture. There were a great number of recreational drugs that could cause hallucinations. Many of them even caused a sense of euphoria, which would have only been used to add another layer to the torture. I ran through lists and lists of drugs in my mind, trying to think what had been used on him. 

Somehow, while he’d made his confession to me, we’d shifted a little. It was now his head that rested on my chest, his arm tight about my ribs - like I was the life raft keeping him afloat. I noticed absently that he’d begun to nuzzle his face against my chest. Though he was still asleep, parts of his body were clearly becoming more alert. Without thinking, I began to run my fingers through his hair. It was still short, but it had grown out a little since we’d rekindled our relationship. I wondered if he had done that for me? Perhaps. I’d always liked his hair longer, curly and soft as it played in my hands. He let out a soft groan, his eyes opening slowly.

“Shall we go to bed?” I asked softly, noting his wakefulness.

One eye rolled toward me, growing sharper as he considered my question.

“To  _ bed _ ? Or to  _ sleep _ ?”

My heart fluttered and I felt the heat of long ignored desire gather low in my belly. As I thought of how I wanted to respond.

“Well I think I’d be open to either option, but you still seem a bit tired. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“Ye could wake me from the dead for that, Sassenach.”

I smiled a little, relieved that his sense of humor had returned. The seriousness of what he’d told me still sat in the back of my mind, but I couldn’t think of that right now. I didn’t want to imagine what he’d looked like, broken and wishing to be dead; or when he’d thought I was dying near him while he was powerless to save me.

“I didna think ye were ready for that yet,” he admitted. “No’ since the last time.”

“It’s been three months since then. I think we’ve been taking things slowly enough.”

Now both eyes now met mine, eager but waiting for me to make the first move.  _ To bed then, _ I thought. He let me up first, his gaze never moving from me, and I helped pull him out of the chair. His hand was warm in mine, sending a thrill up my arm like a jolt of lightning.

Was it odd that the last time we’d slept together had been in my flat? Perhaps he felt safer here. My flat certainly felt more like a home than his. I couldn’t help but think of the last time we’d been here, when I’d shown him the little box I’d put my heart in.

My hand felt so small in his, almost fragile. He paused just outside the door, allowing me inside first. When he joined me, I noticed how his eyes darted around the room. Was he uncomfortable in a room without a clear exit?

“Would you rather I leave the door open?” I asked suddenly, my hand on the handle.

“Would ye mind? I dinna sleep verra weel wi’ it closed.”

“Of course not.”

I left the door cracked open enough to let a little ambient light in. I usually slept with it closed, but in light of what he’d told me I was more than willing to compromise.

“Do ye work tomorrow?”

“Yes, but not early. I’ve got a late morning, so I don’t have to rush off right away.”

He gave me a soft smile and took a deep breath.

“May I kiss ye, Claire.”

“Yes,” I whispered as my breathing became ragged.

He moved closer, bringing his hands to cup my face, amazingly gentle for a man his size, and he bent his neck to kiss me. It was sweet and savory and full of everything we didn’t know how to say. What was there to say, I wondered. He’d already told me everything about his time away from me and that he’d never stopped loving me. I’d told him that I still loved him too. 

Maybe this was different, though. When we were engaged, we’d been inseparable, not whole without the other. Since then though, I’d had to learn to cope without him and he without me. And because of that; the love I felt for him now had a different flavor to it - more tangy than sweet. It felt stronger than before, more consuming, and that realization frightened me. There was potential for another heartbreak. Three months had done a lot to soothe my worries, but a different part of my brain was prepared for another disappointment.

But _ Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ _ he was a good kisser, better now that some of our initial awkwardness was gone. It pulled me from my darker thoughts into more pleasant ones. He brought me to thoughts about the first time he’d kissed me and I remembered that he’d always been wonderful. I could worry about the implications of my feelings later. Right now I was a creature of desire with only one way to satisfy my yearning.

Seizing control of the situation, I bore him back onto my bed. He grunted slightly with my full weight landing on him, but neither of us was able to stop. We began fumbling with buttons and buckles and zippers until we were freed. I took him to the root in one swift stroke, sighing with his full length inside me. He muttered Gaelic words of praise, I thought dimly, though I had no desire to translate them. Sometimes the beauty was in the strangeness of the words, not in their meaning.

I rode him hard, refusing to let my worries creep back into the forefront of my mind. I still wore one of my socks, though I didn’t remember taking off my shoes.His hands snaked up my torso, pushing my bra up so my breasts fell free. He cupped me in those large hands, somehow moving in time with the rest of my body.

I was desperate for this release, eager for a world of feeling without emotion. I didn’t want to think about the risks of loving a man as broken as Jamie was, about what it would mean for our future. I just wanted to feel. His hips rose to meet each of my thrusts, a soft grunt coming through his open mouth. I glanced down for a moment and couldn’t help but smile. Both of his eyes were tight shut, face contorted slightly as we moved together.

The hot oblivion of completion overtook me and I shuddered while he softly groaned my name. We sat that way for some time, his hands still massaging my breasts. When he grew limp and slipped out, I lay down beside him. His eyes were closed, though I knew he hadn’t fallen asleep. As our breathing began to slow he sat up and removed his own socks.

“Will ye stay wi’ me?” he asked softly.

The tone of it brought back that childlike feeling from before, though now it felt somehow sad.

“Of course. Where else would I go?” I asked, pulling off my lone sock.

I considered doing the same as he had and just sleeping naked beside him, but it didn’t feel right. Instead, I got up and threw on an old t-shirt. By the time I was back in bed, he was mostly asleep. As soon as he felt me, he pulled me close and relaxed fully into unconsciousness.

The flaw in my plan to feel without emotion, I realized, was that the satisfaction of that feeling left my mind free to wander. With no lust or desire occupying my thoughts, I had nothing to keep me from thinking about the conversations of the night, of what he had been through, and what it might mean for me.

Was I ready to love a man this scarred? The mere thought at what he’d suffered made me feel sick. He’d still written me letters, even though he’d believed me dead. Had he done it only as a way to mourn my alleged death?

I couldn’t imagine a man with so much life wishing to be dead. Was I ready to be his anchor ?

No, I wasn’t.

I wasn’t prepared for this, I had no training. My love wasn’t enough to fix him, to bring him back together. I couldn’t be that for him. The sheer enormity of it had ice running through my veins. This was going too fast, moving toward an ending I wasn’t ready for. It was likely he thought we’d get engaged again and be married at Lallybroch like he’d always dreamed. For him, it would be an inevitable conclusion. But it wasn’t for me, not yet.

Eventually, I forced myself into an uneasy sleep, not truly resting. When I woke to the whole bed shaking, a loud voice at my side crying out and shouting curses. I sat bolt upright, scared awake, adrenaline coursing through me.

Looking around for the source, I saw him then. Jamie was crouched on the floor like a panther ready to pounce. He was still naked, his eyes flashing wildly around. My alarm was blaring, though I barely heard it. Confused, I reached over and turned it off.

“Jamie?”

His eyes turned to me and they were no longer sharp and clear, but dulled and distant. Had my alarm scared him so badly?

“Jamie, it’s me, Claire. Do you know where you are?”

I wasn’t sure why I asked that question, but it seemed to help a little.

“Sassenach?”

His voice sounded reedy and raspy, his eyes still glazed.

“Yes, Jamie. I’m right here.”

“Oh,” he said, standing slowly as his eyes cleared. “I thought he’d… No matter. I’m sorry to have frightened ye.”

I stared up at him.

“It’s alright. I have to get ready for work now, though. Will you be alright?”

“Aye, I’ll be fine. You go about your business. Shall I make us some coffee?”

“That would be lovely.”

I took a very fast shower and dressed in my scrubs before grabbing some leftovers for my lunch. He had my coffee sitting out waiting for me while he sipped his own.

“I thought maybe I could come by and see ye for lunch?”

Fear gripped me. This was the next step of progression, of moving our relationship forward.

“I’m not sure when I’ll get a break today.”

“I’ll be there around one for my physical therapy,” he said, setting his mug down. “Perhaps I’ll call ye and see if ye’re free?”

Panicking, I took a long drink of coffee before replying.

“I’d love to; I just don’t think it’ll happen today. My schedule will be changing this week, so I don’t know when, or if, I’ll be able to see you this week. How about I give you a call later, hmm?”

He nodded slowly, watching me though I was unable to meet his eyes..

“Aye,” he said, his voice soft. “ I’ll wait for ye to call.”

After my small breakfast, he walked me to my car. He bent to kiss my lips, but I turned my face in a dodge and he settled for my cheek.

“I’ll speak to ye later then, mo nighean donn.”

“Sure.”

I didn’t call him during my break that day. I thought about it. Had his number dialed on my phone and very nearly pressed the call button. I had a text message typed out, but deleted it. 

What had frightened me so much? Why was the reality of loving a survivor like Jamie so terrifying? I didn’t have an answer to that, and I wasn’t sure I wanted one. The one thing I did know, however, was that things were progressing too quickly. I wasn’t ready for marriage and moving into a new house and raising children. I needed to hit the brakes on this and slow things down.

Jamie didn’t call me, but he had sent me a text.

_ Hope I can see you soon, Sassenach. _

I’d stared at it for an hour that night while my dinner cooled.

_ I’m not sure when that will be. I think we need to slow down a little. _

I’d hit send before I could stop myself. I waited anxiously for his reply, but it didn’t come. I thought maybe he’d gone to sleep or was just too busy to reply.

_ Unlikely _ , I thought as I went to bed. _ You’re just trying to make yourself feel better, Beauchamp. _

I woke in the morning to my phone ringing. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but I answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Claire Beauchamp?”

“Yes, it is. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Hello, Ms. Beauchamp. My name is Henry MacDonnell. I have ye listed as an emergency contact for one James Fraser?”

“Jamie?” I asked, worry creeping into my tone. “Is he alright? What’s happened?”

“Weel,” the man said. “I’m his physical therapist, ken? He’s never missed an appointment, as I told him that his hand would cripple if he skipped. I ken there’s some darkness in him still, as wi’ most soldiers I reckon, and I worry when my patients miss our scheduled appointments.”

I stared at the wall in blank shock.

“He… he didn’t go? Or even call?”

“No, ma’am. He hasna returned my calls either. I’ve started contacting everyone on his emergency list, hoping someone will ken where he might’ve gone.”

“Have you called his sister or brother-in-law?”

I could hear papers shuffling.

“Janet and Ian Murray?”

“Yes, that’s them.”

“They’re next on my list. You were listed as his first contact, so I thought ye might ken where he’s gone.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. I haven’t seen him all day.”

Henry sighed heavily.

“Aye, that’s alright. If ye hear from him, could ye have him give me a call? I worry about soldiers wi’ records like his. Ghosts dinna like to let a weary man rest.”

“I will.”

“Thank ye. Sorry to bother ye so early.”

“It’s no problem. Good luck.”

When the phone went silent, I just stared at it. Jamie wasn’t communicating with anyone, and he’d missed his appointment. That was very unlike him. Hastily, I dialed the number to the hospital.

“I’ve had a bit of a family emergency,” I said to my supervisor. “I need someone to cover my shift.”

“You won’t be able to come in at all today?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Alright.”

I sat at my kitchen table and considered my options. Where would a terrified Jamie go? Unless he was on his deathbed, I thought he might be running scared, especially after what had happened with my alarm clock. Some place safe, obviously, but where would that be? Not here, obviously. Would his own flat be sanctuary enough? Only one way to be sure.

I drove as quickly as I could to his small flat and knocked frantically on his door. When I got no answer, I pressed my ear to it and listened. There were noises coming from inside, what I thought sounded like groaning. Growing more and more worried, I tried the door handle praying it would be unlocked.

It was.

I let myself in and stopped short, just inside the door.

The whole place was dark, all the curtains drawn and no lights on. Even his coffee maker had been unplugged to get rid of the light.

“J-Jamie?”

I ventured slowly inside, searching for any sign of him. Something stank with the distinct odor of human excrement. The cleanliness I’d seen before was gone. None of the chairs were in the right places I saw, once I’d turned a light on. Clothes were strewn everywhere, the refrigerator door hanging open a little. I checked on the food inside, but there wasn’t anything there. That was good, at least, as he wouldn’t have ruined food. A strange noise drew my attention and I thought it might have been someone falling onto the floor. I moved toward his bedroom, hoping that he’d be there and alright.

The sight of him very nearly broke me.

He wore nothing but his underwear and he was huddled in the darkest corner of the room. He was shivering hard enough for me to hear his teeth clacking. I could smell the urine on him even from across the room.

“Jamie?”

“No!” he shouted, turning his head away from me. “No! You’re no’ real! A bloody vision again! I canna take more of it! Just kill me!”

I had no training for this, no real knowledge on how to help someone in his condition. I thought maybe touching him would be a bad idea.

“Jamie, it’s Claire. I’m right here.”

“No! She’s dead! He showed me the bloody clothes. Ye canna be real.”

“I am, I’m real.”

“I’ll no’ look at your ghost and ken that I’ve killed ye!”

When he began to shake more violently, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed number for Lallybroch as quickly as I could. I slipped out of the room, though I still kept Jamie in sight. I had no idea what to do about him or how to help him. As I listened to the phone ring, I wondered why I’d called this number and not the hospital. I just hoped Ian would answer it and not Jenny.

“Jamie?”

“No, it’s Claire. I’m at his flat and he’s here. But… Ian, I don’t know what to do.”

“Has he hurt himself?”

I looked him over as best I could.

“Not that I can see. He’s messed himself though. Likely his bed too, by the smell of it.”

“Claire,” Ian said, his voice hard. “Ye’ve two options right now. Either ye stay wi’ him and help him through this, or ye go and I come. Ye canna have it both ways.”

“I… I don’t…”

“He’s changed since ye got back together and I’ll no’ lie to ye about it. Ye’ve been good for him, given him something to strive for. He needs ye, Claire. But only if ye’ll have him as he is.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the weeping, shivering man in the dark corner.

“I don’t know how to help him, Ian.”

“This happened once before, when he stayed wi’ me and Jenny here at the estate. He needs someone to ground him, help him see the difference between reality and his visions.”

“He thinks I’m not real.”

“Aye, I ken that. But Claire, if ye stay wi’ him now, he’ll depend on ye. Ye canna pull back from him again.”

As I watched him shiver, I felt my heart long for him. Yes, I was still afraid on some absurd level. Maybe my love alone wouldn’t be enough to help put him back together, but I could at least help him back to reality . My love for him was strong enough for that.

“He showed you the text message, didn’t he?”

“Aye. We were having coffee. We both get nightmares, ken? About that bastard and what he did. I ken Jamie got the worst of it, but I’m the only one who understands. He shut down when ye made it seem like ye were backing away from him.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, slowly inching back into the room.

“Do ye need me to come?”

I sat down slowly in front of Jamie, staring at his unshaven face.

“No, Ian. I’ll stay with him.”

“Call me when he’s better, aye?”

“Of course.”

I hung up my phone and turned it off. I needed to concentrate on Jamie and getting a poorly timed phone call could be disastrous.

For a long time, I watched him, listened to his incoherent babbling and made an action plan of sorts. First, I needed to bring in some light. That would help dispel his memories of the cave. Then I needed to somehow show him that I was real, not a hallucination. After that, I needed to get him cleaned up.

I got to my feet and started opening blinds and turning on every light I could find. The day had broken bright and sunny, which I was thankful for. I also righted the chairs around his kitchen table and made everything as neat as I could. 

Back in his room, I opened the curtains on his window and turned back to him. He shrank away from the light as if it burned him.

“James Fraser,” I said sharply. “Come back to me.”

“No! I canna look at your ghost, Claire. I canna bare it!”

“I’m not dead, Jamie. I’m right here.”

I moved to him slowly, strategizing what I might do next. 

“He showed me the clothes. He killed ye because I loved ye. I wouldna give myself to him because of you.”

“You didn’t give yourself over because you’re stronger than he was. You survived and I’m still alive.”

“No. This is a trick again. I’ll no’ gi’ her up!”

With unexpected speed and agility, he lunged at me. Both of his large hands wrapped around my neck as he bore down on me. I struggled, but I was too weak to fight him off on a normal day, let alone when he was deep in a state like this.

“Jamie!” I struggled to breathe as his hands clamped down like iron. “Please! It’s me!”

In a stroke of desperation, I reached out and cupped one of his cheeks in my hand. Every muscle in his body seemed to flinch at the touch. His own hands stopped squeezing, letting me breathe a little, but he was still lost.

“Jamie, I’m right here,” I said, my voice hoarse. “ _ Je suis prest _ .”

I don’t know why I’d said it or what had moved me to think it was a good idea. But his gaze moved to mine and I watched the clouds of dream and nightmare lift.

“Sassenach?”

“Yes, Jamie. I’m right here. I’m not a dream or a ghost. I’m real.  _ Je suis prest _ ,” I repeated.

And I realized I  _ was  _ ready. Ready for whatever a life with him would bring me. Whatever broken pieces of his soul were left, I would hold them in my hands and protect them with my own life. He wasn’t as broken as I’d thought him to be, simply haunted by a past he wanted to ignore. I am a healer. I will do the research and find ways to help him. Because, while he might need me, I also needed him. I truly wasn’t whole without him.

“Claire? Oh God, Claire! I thought ye were dead! I thought I was back there, that I’d dreamed it all!”

“Shh,” I said, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “It’s alright darling. I’m here for you now.”

He fell away from me then, openly sobbing and muttering words I didn’t understand. I struggled to my knees and  offered a hand to him, letting him take it if he wished.

“I’m so sorry,” I said quietly.

“What? For what? Ye didna do anything.”

“I shouldn’t have pulled away from you like that. I got scared and my instinct is to cut ties and run. But I can’t do that to you after all we’ve been through. Not when… not with how much I love you.”

More tears leaked from his eyes and he took a deep breath in through his nose. He turned his head away from me.

“I’ve messed myself. Ye shouldna be forced to endure me. Ye deserve a better man, a whole one. One who willna put yer life in danger, or scare ye half to death.”

“I don’t want any other man,” I said, getting to my feet with my hand still outstretched. “I just want you.”

His eyes rose to meet mine timidly, unsure of my intentions.

“Truly?”

“Yes, truly. Let me help you, Jamie. Please.”

Then slowly, as though he was still afraid I was a ghost, he slid his hand into mine.


	8. You Can Do Anything, But Not Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie have to work things out, if they can.

I combed my fingers through his damp hair, watching while he slept. His head was on my lap, body curled tightly around mine. Just watching him, I wanted to weep. Now that I studied him closely, I could suddenly see what had been lost. 

He might be asleep, but he was far from being at peace. A frown deepened the lines on his face, making him look a decade older than he was. There was a thin scar that followed the line of his left eyebrow, something I’d never noticed before. A near-forgotten habit had me brushing the hair from his cheek. It got no response, not like he had before.

_ The fire in the hearth at Lallybroch burned low, casting a warm light over the room. Jamie’s head was on my chest, his mouth slightly open. I brushed the hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear, and his lips pulled into a sweet smile. _

_ “He used to do that as a bairn,” Jenny said.  _

_ “Did he?” _

_ “Aye. Mam and I would take turns to see who could make him do it while he slept in his cot.” _

_ I tried it again and sure enough, he smiled in his sleep before nuzzling closer to my breast. _

_ “What do you suppose it means?” _

_ Jenny sighed. _

_ “I think it means he’s happy.” _

Was he happy now? Not at the moment, plagued as he was by his demons. Perhaps he was a little comforted,but it didn’t seem like much that I’d done for him; but maybe it was enough to start with.

The last several hours replayed in my mind, over and over as I lay silently beside him. 

_ His hand slid into mine and he allowed me to help him to his feet. Surveying his bedroom, I began making a list in my mind of what needed to be done. It was too dark, I needed to let the sunshine in. And everything needed to be cleaned. _

_ “Alright,” I said, coming to a conclusion. “First things first. Let’s get you cleaned up.” _

_ He nodded slowly, like he understood me but was unsure how to follow through with it. I got the feeling he didn’t want to be touched again, so I kept my hands at my sides. I was still drastically underprepared to help him with this, but I’d be damned if I left him to deal with it alone.  _

_ “Come with me, darling,” I said as gently as I could. “That’s it, one foot at a time.” _

_ I lead him to the shower with my voice, pleased by his progress. _

_ “Now we need to get you in the shower. Could you take your underpants off?” _

_ Almost mechanically, he stripped off his soiled garment and stood shivering while I let the water warm. Then, without thinking, I too removed my clothes and watch. He hardly noticed. _

_ “Come on,” I said gently. “In you go.” _

_ He stood beneath the water as it washed the stench away, his body trembling though the water was warm. I lathered his soap in my hands and reached out to help clean his body. My fingertip had barely touched his chest when he flinched back into the wall. His eyes, wild with terror, rolled around the enclosed space. _

_ “Easy, Jamie. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be alright. Look at me, Jamie. Don’t see anything else. Just see me.” _

_ Slowly, his eyes moved back to my face and locked in place. His body was still rigid with his reaction, but the pulse in his neck had begun to slow. _

_ “I’m going to touch you now, alright? Just to clean you up. That’s all.” _

_ He clenched his jaw a few times before he nodded. This time when I touched his chest, he only flinched rather than jump away. With the cleaning of his body done, I began to wash his hair. I worked the knots out of it and massaged his scalp, trying to help him relax. Thankfully he’d finally stopped shaking. I didn’t stop speaking to him while I cleaned his hair, since he could no longer keep me in sight. It seemed to help - or at least I hoped it did. _

_ My heart shattered at the sight of him like this. In all the time I’d known him he had been so strong and sure of himself, like nothing could shake his foundation. But now that I had seen beneath the surface of that, I saw that foundation was cracked; not broken altogether, but neither was it whole. _

_ “I’m here, Jamie,” I said as he leaned into my hands. _

_ I held his face as I rinsed his hair.  _

_ “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” _

_ Now that he was clean, he looked a little better. I put both of my hands flat on my chest. Again, his body flinched, but a little less than the time before. His heart was racing, but his breathing was beginning to slow. _

_ “Is there something I can do, Jamie?” _

_ He shook his head. After a while, I turned the water off and helped him out of the shower. I wrapped myself in a towel first, then wrapped him. I nudged him to sit down on the toilet seat while I combed his hair and helped him dry off. His color still wasn’t quite right, but he seemed to relax a little more. Though I had precious little experience with veterans suffering from PTSD, the healer in me took this to be a good sign. _

_ “I need to get you clean clothes,” I said softly. “Stay here _ _. _ _ I’ll just be a minute or two.” _

_ I waited until he gave me a weak nod before I dressed hastily and went to fetch his own clothes. I grabbed what I hoped would be comfortable for him and went back to where he waited. _

_ “Here we are. Can you dress yourself, Jamie?” _

_ “Mmhm,” he muttered. _

_ That was the first verbal response I’d gotten from him since helping him out of his flashback. It wasn’t much, but it was something and it made me hopeful. Once he was dressed in fresh clothes, which had to feel a little better, I lead him out to the couch. He sank onto the it, exhausted. I moved with a speed I only experienced when I was in surgery and began to clean his flat. _

_ “I’m going to fix you a strong cup of tea and clean up a bit, ok? But I’m not going anywhere. I’m still here, love.” _

_ He nodded distractedly as I moved to the kitchen, filling and setting the kettle to boil. While it warmed, my mind began to wander aimlessly. It settled on nothing in particular, it just went sort of blank. The kettle went off and the sound ripped me from my empty thoughts. I got his tea ready with two lumps of sugar, knowing his body needed the energy after an ordeal like that. While it cooled a little, I began scrubbing down the counters and rinsing out the sink before taking it over to him. I’d set everything to rights earlier, but I thought everything being truly clean would help. _

_ “Drink your tea, darling. I’m going to go and put your sheets in the wash, alright? I’ll be away five minutes.” _

_ “Mmhmm.” _

_ I stripped the bed down hastily and threw everything into the wash. The mess on the floor would take some work, but I cleaned up as much as I could before returning to him. I was afraid to leave him alone too long. _

_ Back in the front room, I watched him sip the tea. It seemed to bring a little color back to his cheeks, giving me some comfort. _

_ “Okay, darling,” I said, easing onto the couch beside him. “Everything’s all cleaned up. How are you doing?” _

_ “Better,” he said, voice cracking. _

_ “That’s good. Would you like some more tea?” _

_ He shook his head, taking one last gulp before setting the cup on the floor.  _

_ “Are you hungry, love? Cold? Is there anything I can get for you?” _

_ Jamie took a deep breath then, his shoulders sagging. _

_ “Just… Tired. So verra tired.” _

_ “I don’t think your mattress is sanitary at the moment. This pulls out into a bed, doesn’t it?” _

_ “Aye.” _

_ “Get up for a moment, I’ll get us sorted.” _

_ He did, slowly and I thought I heard him groan. It took a little maneuvering, but I got the bed unfolded and the sheets set to right. It didn’t look terribly comfortable, but it was better than nothing. I eased myself onto it and motioned for him to join me, a moment's hesitation, he did. _

_ He lay stiffly beside me, as though he’d been carved from marble. Moment by moment, he relaxed and put his head in my lap. _

_ “Come lay your head, man,” I whispered, carefully running my fingers through his hair. _

_ He exhaled deeply and finally relaxed for the first time since I’d arrived. _

_ It was quiet for several minutes while I tried to figure out what to do next. Talking had seemed to help him a bit, so I poured through my memories to find something to talk about. _

_ “Perhaps you and I go back to Loch Ness again, stay at that little bed and breakfast right on the loch. Balacalditch, wasn’t it?” _

_ “Balachladaich” he corrected. _

_ “You know, I saw a young boy on the street just the other day and he reminded me of that lad we met at the Loch. Do you remember? He came and said hello to us every single morning, always laughing. Do you remember that morning he asked if we were going to have a baby like his mum and dad? I’ve never seen you turn so pink in all my life…” I laughed a little at the memory of Jamie’s embarrassed face. “I thought your ears would catch fire, they had turned so red. We had to explain that the stork hadn’t left us one yet.” _

_ I took a long breath. _

_ “I remember when you took me to Lallybroch for the first time after that. We climbed the tower and watched that beautiful sunset right over the valley…” _

_ I continued to speak for what felt like hours, talking of nothing and everything. He slept lightly, his features stiff with worry and pain, the opposite to the boy I'd found sleeping on his sister’s couch at Lallybroch, face angelic, soft and without care. He had lines now, around his eyes I'd never noticed before, making him look distinguished, mature. I didn't want to think of the nights and worries that etched them into his skin. Looking down at his sleeping form, I realized once again just how much he had changed. _

I hadn’t turned any of the lights off since we’d laid down, I didn’t think it would help banish the nightmares from his mind to remain in darkness.

I leaned against the back of the couch to give him as much room as I could. A pull out bed wasn’t really designed for a six-foot Scot, but we would make do. I’d pulled one of the small pillows onto my lap for him to rest his head on, keeping us both comfortable. He slept like a child, his legs pulled up tight against his chest, trying to be as small as possible. His arms were wrapped tight around my legs, his breathing had become heavy and even in his sleep.

I felt my own eyes falling heavy with sleep, but couldn’t tear myself away from watching over him. In an effort to wake myself, I messaged Ian.

“I can’t say he’s okay, because he isn’t. But he’s sleeping and calm. You need to tell me about his other episodes, Ian. I can’t lose him again. Will update you more tomorrow. Claire x”

As I pressed send, Jamie moved slightly and my heart leapt in fear at the thought of him falling into the abyss of another nightmare. Instead, he moved slightly and swiftly fell asleep once more.

I knew I should begin reading, trying to find out anything I could about PTSD based panic attacks. Message boards filled with soldiers home from war zones filled the pages, friends and family discussing methods and support options. Those that conquered their fear filled memories, and others that battled daily. This wasn’t an easy road, not for him and not for me. Ian had been right when he’d told me Jamie would depend on me if I stayed. I had become his pillar of strength, and I needed to be exactly that. No more running, no more fear. Randall had cast a darkness over his soul, leaving a shadow hanging over the man I had known so intimately before. We had brought light to one another before, I could do it again for us both. James Fraser was worth more to me than I could admit, and I had to prove it.


End file.
